Out There
by Josephine
Summary: Logan and Rogue struggle with running problems


Title: Out There  
Author: Josephine (roswellDRE@hotmail.com)  
Summary: Logan and Rogue struggle with running problems.  
Rating: G- PG  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to someone very special, whom as of this time hasn't recognized their full potential. Not saying that even I have, but they sure aren't having a father daughter relationship. Sorry, but no. Maybe we didn't see the same movie? The lyrics are to Train's song "Drops of Jupiter."  
Fandom: X-Men movie  
Pairing: Logan and Rogue  
POV: First person, Logan  
Suggested Listening: "Drops of Jupiter" by Train, or "100M Backstroke" by Josh Rouse. Just because I love the song, and I know you will love it too. Download it. I got it here: http://roswell.na.nu/   
Distribution: Ask and it shall be given to you.  
Feedback: makes sad puppy face: I really would like some. It's not that hard…  
Thanks: To Amber for being a L/R shipper. To Kendra for the beta (and for listening to my ramblings every day). To Train for writing such an awesome and inspiring song.  
Notes: This story has changed a lot in my head over the past few days. It started out as Max and Liz (Roswell) then went to original characters, and then, thanks to the fantastic fic-writing abilities of Diebin, it came to what it is now, a Logan and Rogue fic. Now that the header is longer than the fic (practically) I hope you all enjoy.  
May 12, 2001- August 19, 2001  
  
I know what it's like to leave, to hide from reality. I always ran because I was a coward. Too scared to deal with what I needed most, I would leave to trail to follow. I needed to be able to step away; I needed somewhere to run to when I didn't have anywhere else to go. I always ran because I was a coward, she ran because I wasn't one.   
  
Now that she's back in the atmosphere   
With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey   
  
I watched her as she ran, saw the way she looked back in my direction, horrified, her hair a swirl of white and almost black trailing out behind her like a flag. I waited while she ran, sat like a fool twiddling my thumbs, thinking about her, and wondering when she would return. Not if, when. I needed her to come back to me; I needed her to need me too. And finally, without a word in my direction, one day, she was just here, like everything was normal (when everything was different). She sat in the library, reading a book on the stars, and when I finally caught her eye from across the room, she seemed older. And the white streak in her hair was more pronounced, and I wanted to ask her right then what had happened to her. But I love her, so I waited.  
  
She acts like summer and walks like rain   
Reminds me that there's a time to change, hey, hey   
  
So now as I wait in silence, she is all smiles. She is old, possessing old ancient smiles, and hollow eyes that still occasionally glisten (and I wish that they were glistening for me). And I wait for her in the background, always waiting for her to really come back, finally come back to me.  
  
Since the return from her stay on the moon   
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey   
  
Sometimes I am lucky enough to catch her scent and feel her eyes on me. She holds her breath when I speak, and lets it all go when she thinks I'm not listening. She still wears the dog tags, but I can't let her know that I know. She's still afraid, deathly terrified, and I can respect that because I have been there so many times before it's almost like breathing.   
  
Tell me did you sail across the sun?   
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded   
And that heaven is overrated?   
  
I have to hold myself back sometimes when I find myself wanting to shake her and growl into her ear "Where have you been?" I don't want to scare her off again. She knows that I care, and I think that's enough for now. I hope she knows that I love her too- I scream it to her in every move I make, in every smile, in every stare just for her. I wonder if she found what she was looking for, when she ran, or if she just gave up. I wonder if she was really looking for me.  
  
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star   
One without a permanent scar?   
  
She spends her nights on the roof of the mansion, staring at the stars. I wish I could climb up there and stare at the stars I know are reflected in her eyes. She's in love with those stars. I know because she told me. Not in so many words of course, but one morning she rushed up to me, hair flying, and a huge smile on her face. "Last night," she whispered, "I saw a shooting star." As she caught her breath, I think she realized what she had just done, and a panicked look came over her face. "What did you wish for?" My voice came out huskier that I'd have liked, and she looked up into my face, and turned and ran back in the direction she'd come from. I stood in the hallway looking after her for a long time.  
  
And there did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?   
  
The next day, I showed up at the door to her room holding a book on the winter sky. There was a rose pressed between the middle pages, almost burning my hand with its presence, but I had to give it to her, I had to do something. The land of my waiting came to a screeching halt the second she opened the door. She rarely wears anything but black, but she was dressed in a pale lavender and pink dress. Her scarf and gloves were white, and she looked breathtaking. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, and as she tried to catch her breath, I took in every bit of her that I could in the few moments I had. "I brought… you a book." Awkwardly, I thrust it towards her, praying that her cottony gloves would just brush my hand. God blessed me that day. "I hope you like it." And with that I walked from her door as casually as I could muster, practically crying with loving her.  
  
Now that she's back from that soul vacation   
Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey   
  
The next morning, I awoke to find her relaxing on the floor of my room. She was wearing a simple nightgown, and her gloved fingers were tracing the lines of the book she held out in front of her. I silently arose, and approached her, "What are you reading?" I asked. She looked shocked to find me awake. "I- I… The book you gave me. The light in here, it's- it's good." I glanced up at the window that only let in enough light to let me see her face, and I knew she was lying (but it felt so good, oh, so good). "Well, don't let me bother you." I stood, and opened the blinds some more, and turned on a light. I suddenly felt uncomfortable with her eyes on me, and headed into the bathroom to put on a shirt.  
  
She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo   
Reminds me that there's a room to grow, hey, hey   
  
I'm never surprised now when I discover her asleep on my chair, or on the floor in my room. She always has her book with her, and sometimes she'll spend all day long with me, without ever saying anything. Yesterday she hefted in her CD player, and listened to Mozart for two hours. She keeps some of her things in my room, under the chair where she thinks I won't notice. But I'm the Wolverine, and if she's touched it I know it's there. I am changing, for her, for myself, whatever the cause I am different now. Sometimes I just catch her hand in mine and think her name so loudly I think everyone can hear it, and she smiles at me, and I know that this is all worth it. Because it's her. "Marie."  
  
Now that she's back in the atmosphere   
I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane   
Told a story about a man who was too afraid to fly so he never did land   
  
It's morning now, and I can feel her arms around me. I felt her when she crawled in next to me last night, but I pretended to be sleeping. Juvenile, certainly, but worth seeing her hair matted down around her face. Worth having her scent gather around me so thickly that I could drown in it. I brush her hair back from her face, unafraid of what may happened if my fingers slip a millimeter too far. She blinks slowly, looks up at me, and smiles. "Do you want to hear my dream?" she asks me, her voice cloudy with sleep. "Sure" I answer gruffly, pleased that she isn't running and screaming from my room. "It was about a man. He looked kind of like you, actually, but with less hair." (She smiled cheekily). "He had to go on a plane for a business meeting, but he was so afraid, so, so scared. He didn't ever want to go up in the sky on something as tiny (tiny in compared to the world) as an airplane. But his wife, she kept telling him that he had to go, he had to or else he would lose his job (and her)." She paused a moment, and I took the opportunity to ask, "What did he do?" She had started to speak, and I never wanted her to stop again. "He just kind of floated around for a while. His wife left him, and she wondered the whole time when he would come back to earth. He was so out there. Weirdo." I smiled. I knew how they felt.  
  
Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet?   
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day   
And head back to the Milky Way?   
  
We are eating breakfast now; it's late so no one else is around. She has a bowl of Lucky Charms and milk with a glass of White Grape Apple juice while convincing me that the blend is actually quite good, and that she always has to buy it herself because no one else here will even try it. I take a sip and scowl because it actually tastes good, and now I have to eat my words as well as my breakfast. We sit in silence for a few moments, just enjoying having each other so near. "Are you scared?" "Terrified." "Good. Me too. Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."  
  
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind   
Was it everything you wanted to find?   
  
"Where did you go?" I can't resist any longer, and I regret it immediately, because she breaks eye contact and stares into her cereal. "It's not important. I came back though." And her eyes have captured mine again, and suddenly it doesn't matter where she was, or where I was. All that matters is that we've both found what we've been looking for and it's right here.   
  
And there did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?   
  
The words start to tumble from her mouth as we walk through the woods. She didn't even know what she was running from, no that's a lie, she was running from me. Wait, no not me, it was the fact that I was ready to do anything for her, and she didn't know if she was ready for that yet. She was ready, she just didn't realize it. She realizes it now. (She takes my hand.) She missed me. And now she's found what she was searching for out there. (She looks up into my eyes, and she smiles. I feel like I could sing.)  
  
Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken?   
Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong   
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation,   
The best soy latte that you ever had... and me?   
  
I can't help it. I take her hand, and sit her down next to me right there on the forest floor. I ask her if she is really ready for this- if she can see us 20 years in the future. She looks at me like I'm a little crazy, but scoots closer when I whisper, "I can." She cups my face with one gloved hand and drawls, "Can you show me?" I lean in, and kiss her lightly on the lips, just enough to start to feel the pull, and then I pull away. Not because I'm not willing to give her more, but because I don't think she's willing to take.  
  
Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet?   
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day   
And head back toward the Milky Way?   
  
"I'm ready." "I have been for a long time."  
  
Tell me did you sail across the sun?   
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded   
And that heaven is overrated?   
  
"Let's go inside." And she takes my hand, and leads me in where we wait for the evening.  
  
Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star   
One without a permanent scar?   
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?   
  
And night falls, and the stars appear. And she whispers her wish to me. And I smile, and I take her hand.  
  
And did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?   
  
And we begin to dance.  
  
And did you fall for a shooting star, fall for a shooting star?   
  
And a star shoots across the sky, and it meets another star, and the show of lights when they meet is amazing.  
  
And are you lonely looking for yourself out there?   
  



End file.
